All This Time
by Histories of Blisters
Summary: It's been three Winterfests since Sandor Clegane rescued his Little Bird from King's Landing and brought her back to Winterfell. Perhaps this Winterfest is the one where Sansa Stark will finally learn what Sandor wants from her.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Well, except maybe for the plot.

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The jolly celebratory atmosphere in the Great Hall of Winterfell was not in line with the troubles in Sansa Stark's mind. Uncharacteristically, she was stoic as some servants entered through the doors carrying a fir tree on their shoulders, carrying smiles that had not been seen for quite some time. A few of them were gathered at one side polishing the glassware and sorting out the ornaments while singing a hymn. Sansa would usually have joined into the tune, making them sigh at the loveliness of her voice, but today was not the day. She stood by the long window, looking out to the courtyard where the guards were performing their daily drills, as she had for the past few minutes. She was looking at one person in particular, and if it were possible, her eyebrows furrowed even more. If anyone paid any heed to the frustration written over her face and asked about it, Sansa Stark would have no choice but to admit it- by the old Gods and the new, Sandor Clegane was making her lose her mind.

Three years ago, she agreed to flee with him during the infamous Battle of the Blackwater, and she would never forget how he returned her beaten soul back to Winterfell. The path was not easy, and when she finally arrived at the place of burnt ruin that was once home, she could not help but cry. He held her in his arms then, albeit awkwardly for his part, but still warm and strong. In that moment, she promised herself that it would be the last time that she would ever shed tears. Without words, she made a promise to herself- she would never let herself suffer again.

He left her soon after they arrived, telling her that he would join Robb's army. He did not let her know that it was because he wanted to help her bring her family back home as she wanted so desperately, so she always assumed that he decided to go because of his 'warrior spirit' that would always lead him to where the fight is as her septa had once taught her. She did not understand why her heart churned so badly when she watched him leave in the morning dew, but as he was gone, she would go to the Godswood every day, without fail, to pray for his safe return. During the time that he was gone, she alone rebuilt Winterfell and the castle soon resembled what it once was. She would share whatever that she had left with her people, gaining her name as Lady of Winterfell.

When the news of Robb's victory finally reached her, along with the great tales of the Hound and his part in the battles, she could not help but laugh and embrace the people around her. It did not take long for the army to return to Winterfell and as they entered the gates, she ran into the arms of her brother who lifted her off the ground and spun her around the way he did when she was a child. She gave her crying mother and new sister-in-law, Jeyne Westerling, a kiss, then, her eyes met those of Sandor Clegane. The first thing that came to her mind was that he looked too tired for his own good. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, knowing that Robb couldn't have done it without him but she noticed the way her mother was looking at her, so she stopped short in front of him and simply whispered, "Thank you." He gave her a curt nod and that was the end of it. The celebration of Winterfest was a small one that year and it was held in the Glass Garden as the collapsed ceiling in the Great Hall was not done being rebuilt. Sansa gave Sandor a wreath that she spent a long time making, sitting in the Godswood, risking splinters on her delicate fingers and using the flowers and branches that she carefully plucked and chose. She was afraid to give it to him at first, but knowing that she had to show him her gratitude at some point, she plucked up her courage and gave it to him when the dinner was held.

"For your safety and all things good, my lord," She remembered saying.

He laughed loudly at that. "The Little Bird stills fleets around, sprouting her courtesies," She could smell the wine on his breath as her face flushed at his words. "I'm no fucking lord."

"Par-Pardons, my lo- Pardons me." Sansa tore her gaze from his eyes and looked down at the ground. She hid the wreath behind her back, and with embarrassment burning her to the core, she turned around to leave. Just as she was about to do so, he grabbed her arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" He rasped.

"I thought- I thought that you did not want my gift." She replied, unable to hide the disappointment in her tone and she tried not to step on herself for it.

He stared at her for a while before grabbing the wreath from her. She held her breath as he moved closer to her and she did not know why. "I'll take it, Little Bird, but don't count on me returning the favour."

She couldn't help but smile at that, and she didn't notice that he looked stunned by that for a moment. Sansa answered, "I never dared hope, non-Ser."

For weeks before the following Winterfest, Sansa stayed up late night after night sewing him a new tunic to thank him for defeating the Frays who wanted revenge for Robb's broken promise. It was a rough battle and Sandor received a terrible gash on his thigh. He was bedridden for quite some time and Sansa unfailingly took care of him, telling herself that it was the only thing that she could do since she could not fight the battles herself. When he could finally walk again, he had a limp and he spent most of his time training Winterfell's guards. This time, Sansa decided to give him her gift before the dinner. She found out from the other servants that he was in the stables and she walked there and she saw him with his horse, Stranger, before he noticed that she was there. She cleared her throat to catch his attention because she did not want to be reprimanded for calling him 'lord' or 'ser', and she was not comfortable enough to call him by his name.

"This is my gift to you," She lifted her arms to give the tunic to him. When he only gave her a questioning look and did not move to receive it, she sucked in a breath and moved to touch his hands and place it in them. "I hope that it is to your liking, and if you require any alterations, I would do it gladly."

She watched as he looked at the tunic in his hands. She looked at his face and for was suddenly hit with the realization that despite his burns, Sandor Clegane was a handsome man. Her face turned red when he suddenly lifted up his head and gave her an amused look. "If you go around giving men a tunic, they might get the wrong idea, Little Bird."

She frowned, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

He smirked at her pure innocence and turned back to his horse. "Nothing. Pay no mind to me."

Sansa too turned to Stranger and moved to stroke the horse's mane. As she moved to do so, Stanger suddenly whined loudly, startling Sansa, causing her to jump back and lose her footing. As she was about to fall, Sandor caught her. One of his arms, the one still holding onto the tunic, grabbed onto hers tightly, while the other was on her waist. Her back was pressed on to his chest as she heaved, trying to regain herself. When her breathing had evened out again, she still did not move away. He was so warm and his grasp was firm on her, making her feel safer than ever before. She willed herself to not press harder against him. That was when he suddenly let her go as though she was scorching iron. Her face turned a lovely shade of pink and she left the stables quickly, the same way a bird fleets.

On the third Winterfest since her return, her mind was clouded by the Dornish wine that she had before. A few months before that day, Sandor managed to find Bran and Rickon. He and Robb travelled out to bring them home. A week after that, he helped to bring Arya and Jon home as well, but Arya had refused to simply stay home and she travelled back out to Braavos a week later. She returned home for the occasion of Winterfest and was mainly the reason why Sansa had drunk so much. Arya insisted on making toast after toast and it was bad manners if she did not drink to that. Sansa was trying to find her way back to her chambers but somehow she kept feeling as though she was going to fall onto the ground, so she decided to stop by the side. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead onto the cold brick wall.

She was startled when a voice came up behind her, "What are you doing out here all alone?"

Sansa swerved around, heart pounding, and it took a while for her to adjust herself to the light. She calmed down when she saw that it was only Sandor.

"I'm just trying to find my way back to my chambers," She slurred at the last few words. "But the walls spinning and I can't-"

He barked out a laugh then, "Looks like the Little Bird is drunk."

She was about to frown when he swept her off her feet and into his arms, making her give a cry. "Let's get you back now, shall we?" He said.

As he walked, she relaxed into his arms and placed her hand onto his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "Did you receive my gift? I had it sent to your quarters this morning."

He was quiet for a while and she was just about to ask again when he finally replied, "Yes, Little Bird. That was quite some armour that you have given me."

"Did you like it?" She asked unsurely. She would never have asked the question if she wasn't so drunk.

"Yes, though I don't think that I would be using it much with this leg of mine."

She pressed her head deeper into his chest and noticed that his heartbeat sped up, but she was too caught up with the current matters at hand to dwell on that.

"You don't sound as though you like it very much." She said quietly.

"Seven hells, Little Bird, I-" He looked down at the lady in the his arms and stopped talking when he saw that she had already fallen asleep, unspoken words still at the tip of his tongue.

This year, Sansa wanted to give him a gift that she knew that he would love, but her mind draws up blank each time. She had no idea what a man like Sandor Clegane would want. Some part of her kept telling herself to give up already, but she will not. This was a challenge, and Sansa Stark will not admit defeat. She sulked as everyone counted the days to Winterfest. Her family seemed to have noticed her depressed mood, but never asked about it, thinking that she was only upset that Bran was going to marry before her. The Reeds were living with them for the moment, but they were the last things on her mind. She still had nothing in mind when it was already the day of Winterfest. The Great Hall was back in its glorious state and hundreds of guests were there, celebrating the occasion as dinner was served, many were already drunk. However, Sansa did not drink, did not sing and did not even dance. She barely touched her food and did not join the merry conversations of her siblings. She saw Sandor Clegane drink a flagon of wine in the corner of her eye and she watched him leave the hall. Her shoulders slouched a little as disappointment hit her with a pang. Had she lost the fight? Will she never give him the perfect gift? She wanted to scream in frustration. What was it that Sandor Clegane wanted?

That was it. If she couldn't guess it herself, she would just ask him. With strong determination, she left her seat, not taking notice of the worried looks Robb and Jon sent her way. She stalked all the way to the other side of the castle, to Sandor's quarters. She tried not to be nervous and willed the ferocity of the determination to take over her. She knocked on the door loudly, but for a long while, there was no answer. She was about to knock again when the door finally opened and there he was, standing right in front of her in his tunic. He looked surprised but she tried not to lose her courage as she gulped.

When she found her voice again, she cried out, "I give up! I don't know anymore!"

He pursed his lips together then said, "What are you going on about, Little Bird?"

Before she knew it, her frustration could not be contained and she was on borderline hysterics. "I've tried to give you the perfect gift, and I wanted it to be the one that you would really love this year, but I just can't think of anything to give you! You never seem to really like whatever I have given you, and I just don't know what you want!"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room, "Seven hells, get in here before the whole castle marches over, thinking the Others have attacked us."

She was heaving as she enters his quarters, but simple curiosity and wonder seep into her as she looked around the place as it was her first time in there. His room was small with a fireplace next to a bed. There was a wooden table with a matching wooden chair right in front of the unused fireplace. Unsure whether he was weary of her presence, Sansa precariously moved to lean her back against the table. "Tell me what you want," She sighed exasperatedly.

He stared at her then said, "Whatever you have given me was fine."

"Please do not lie to me. You're not even wearing the tunic that I made you!"

In that moment, they just looked at each other, their expressions polar opposites of one another. Hers was one of total frustration, while his was calm, and for some reason, that made Sansa even more troubled.

"Little Bird," He suddenly looked pained, as though words couldn't come out of his mouth easily. "I wouldn't risk wearing out something that precious to me."

She froze that, and her heart felt as though it melted. She spoke the first thing that came out of her mind. "What- What do you mean?"

"What I want is something that I should never ask for," He gave a bitter laugh, "and it's also something that you might not willingly give me."

She bit on her lower lip, unaware of the way he was staring at her as she did so. Finally, she said, "Tell me what it is."

He did not do anything at first, then, he moved closer to her. Her heart raced as he reached to touch her cheek. Then slowly his hand moves to her chin. He just stood there caressing her face and Sansa started to relax. Shyly, she looked in his eyes and her gaze flickered at his lips for a moment. She flushed at that and was surprised to see how his eyes darkened. Suddenly, he moved closer towards her and only stopped an inch from her lips. Sansa was surprised but in that moment, she was only aware of the fluttering in her belly and her want for him to close that distance. She felt like one of those maidens in those songs that she had long given up on in King's Landing. Her eyes fell shut, and she waited… and waited. Finally, she felt his lips on hers and her heart felt as though it was going to soar out of her chest.

His mouth was rough and demanding on hers. The feeling was strange with his unsymmetrical face caused by his scars, but nonetheless breath-taking, and it seemed impossible to not yield under his kiss. Sansa unconsciously moved to place her hands on his broad shoulders but as his tongue traced her bottom lip and entered when she gasped to battle with her own, her hands dragged themselves down his body and stopped on his chest. Seemingly encouraged by this, Sandor gripped the back of her head, running his fingers through her fire-red hair, the kind of flames that he didn't flinch from. His other hand moved down her body, brushing past her breast, making Sansa moan. At that, she pulled away from him and breathlessly said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Sandor couldn't help but laugh at her innocent response at making such a wanton noise, knowing that her septa taught her to never give such an unladylike response. Sansa's face grew redder, thinking that he was laughing at how silly and inexperienced she was. She felt as though her whole soul caved in and she found it hard to even swallow. She kept her eyes on the ground and took a few steps to leave his room, but he caught her arm. Sansa couldn't help but think that he seemed to like to do that a lot. He pulled her to him and with a gasp, Sansa was in his hold, with her back against him.

"Little Bird," He rasped and she could feel his voice rumble his chest. "You're supposed to make such a noise."

She wriggled in his grasp, trying to free herself as she said, "But you were laughing at me. I know that I'm not experienced nor attractive in anyway, but-"

He cut her off with a pained groan, "You're not unattractive."

"But you-" Her protest was cut off as he pressed her body harder against his. Her attempts at trying to free herself ceased when she felt something stiff pressing into her lower back. Her face flushed prettily as realization dawned on her. "Oh…"

"Yes, Little Bird. You are too innocent to not notice all the looks the men in court have given you. Seven hells, girl. They all want you to warm their beds at night. They don't care if you're the wife or the lover. They just want to fuck you bloody and not give a shit about how you feel, but I will kill them before they do so."

"Will you?" She asked quietly.

He did not answer for a while, and when he did, he said, "For you, Little Bird, I will."

Sansa stood still, taking long deep breaths, and recalled the moment when he told her that men were all killers in King's Landing, but this wasn't the usual case. Sandor Clegane had just admitted to her that he would it just for her and those words alone had so many connotations in them. Was it delusional of her to think that he had formed some sort of attachment towards her?

Plucking up her courage, she whispered, "And you? What is it you want?"

He was quiet and she shifted unconsciously, making her rub against his member. He groaned out loud and she turned pink as he finally answer, "You. I want you, Little Bird."

In that moment, she realized the truth- an answer that had always been there all along. She turned her head to the side to look into his eyes and told him the exact words that hit her, "You've had me all along."

His lips descended on hers and his hands lifted up her skirts. When he moved aside her smallclothes and his finger slipped in her wetness, she finally moaned, "Sandor."

It was that night that Sansa Stark gave Sandor Clegane the gift that he wanted all along.


End file.
